


Hips Don't Lie

by freesiamor



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancing, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One Shot Collection, Sexual Tension, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freesiamor/pseuds/freesiamor
Summary: Collection of One-Shots.Where you are dancing and someone eyes are glued on you.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Hips Don't Lie

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying some different writing styles (or I think I am), feedback is always appreciated!  
> This work is not revised so I'm sorry in advance if there is any mistake.

There are a few things you care about when you are verging a drunk state. The eyes of everyone glued on you are not one of them. For starters, you can’t even care about a thing that you don’t take notice of.

Your mind has almost transcended, your body abuses the freedom given by the usually overthinking brain. Body and soul united to care about one thing only: to have fun.

And so, your curves greet everyone that dares to land their look on them and cages the said eyes to admire your body, and your body only, while you gently move it around the small space that you’ve claimed as yours.

Bokuto Koutarou is the life of the party, or so you have been told. And, in this world that is your mind, he still is.

Bokuto is well known around the university. Not only he is one of the strongest players on your college volleyball team, but his extroverted personality and natural friendly excitement allow him to befriend a big portion of everyone he comes in contact with.

Now, you can’t exactly label him as your friend. When you occasionally cross paths you wave at each other, like he does to everybody he has acquainted. In rarer days, he approaches your group of friends and manages a casual conversation until your ways diverge again.

Your mindless self didn’t notice when Bokuto diminish his presence to give yours a place to shine, but not for long. Like every other eyes in the room, his golden orbs where invited, _attracted_ , **forced** , to follow your body movements.

And so, he quietly traced your form, from the sexy shake your hips casually gave, to the loose arms lifting your hair and briefly showing your teasing neck.

Bokuto Koutarou is the life of the party, or so he decided to be.

Bokuto is a guy who does not restrain himself. He never did before, so there was no point on doing it now. His body language was always enough to convey whatever he was feeling, the was no point in not doing it in this moment.

Now, in a split of a second, the floor you were stepping on so freely was claimed by Bokuto Koutarou. And everyone knew it, everybody felt it, everyone saw it, everybody except you.

Your thoughts are pulled back to your brain the moment you feel some familiar big fingers in contact with your sides, navel lined.

And so, you kept dancing. Accompanied with a redness that creeped through your neck to your cheeks. With a timid grin, now that you were forced to be conscious of your surroundings, your movements, and the person holding you from behind.

Bokuto Koutarou is a touchy person, that you already knew.

Bokuto is, believe it or not, conscious about that. You weren’t expecting to be asked about your comfortability to touches when you met him for the second time, it’s a weird thing to talk about to a stranger, isn’t it? But, from the beginning, his intentions were never to be a stranger to you, so he had to make sure what level of touchy he could be with you in that moment, he had to make sure you would be comfortable with this level of touchy in this moment.

Now, contradicting every image that you have established for the person Bokuto Koutarou is, he remained silent, matching your swings while closing the distance between your bodies. He was warm, or was it the room temperature rising?

Your line of thoughts broke completely when a shot of hot, yet humid, air reached the exposed side neck. A few seconds later the weight of a head made itself felt in your right shoulder. And the hot strokes of air kept coming, consistently, following the dancing and music rhythms.

Bokuto Koutarou is a greedy man, that he already knew.

“Bokuto…” your lips parted, to pronounce his name in a quiet and dragged way. You couldn’t hide the goosebumps, nor the strong red adorning all your face, so you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

Now was the moment to take risks. And so the greedy Bokuto Koutarou closed the gap between his lips and the patch of skin that were in front of them, brushing them lightly against each other, enjoying every single millimetre of your neck textured skin.

Your mind went blank when you felt his hands sly moving downwards from your navel line. Intelligently matching the slow music pace, he took control of your waist with his whole hands.

And so, a familiar sensation took over your body and soul, this feeling of transcending, and not caring for anything around you. It was not the drinks you took, not the music playing in the background, it wasn’t the party mood. It was this comfortable person that let you be you. It was like reaching nirvana, but you weren’t alone. This was a shared place between you and

Bokuto Koutarou.

“Koutarou,” he managed to suggest when his lips created some distance “I would be much happier if you’d refer to me by that name.”

There are a lot of things you feel when someone holds you as dearly, as slyly, as sexually, as Bokuto Koutarou holds you right now. Wondering if the strong pulse of your heart against your ribcage is being influenced by the party or if you naturally nurture this desire for the golden eyed boy is one of them. Even if it shouldn’t be, because deep down you know that from the moment you met him a burning flame was consuming your heart.

But now is not the moment to think about your feelings. Not when his middle fingers are applying pressure to each side of where your waistline meets your legs. Not when you comply to his pleading and allow your body to be pressured against his, after long minutes of lightly brushing one another. Definitely not when you hear him pant, after your butt keeps dancing, teasing, to the music against his growing erection.

Maybe after you wake up, naked, in his bed. Maybe after you put some distance between his body and yours, only for it to be closed again by his strong arm pushing you toward him. Maybe after you hesitantly look at his face, only to find him analysing, _admiring_ , **contemplating** , every single line of it. Definitely after he kissed you good morning and dropped a “I love you” nonchalantly, like it was part of your morning routine.

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe me if I told you this one Head-Cannon was not allowing me to go to sleep? Like it invaded my brain with Hips Don't Lie by Shakira and didn't let me rest until I made my first draft...


End file.
